Page 16 of Retrograde
‘That stays between us.’
‘Of course,’ Esme added. ‘But why only almost? You two aresoright for each other.’
‘I freaked out, I want more than just sex with a person, so I pushed him away.’
‘Oh…’ Faith trailed off. ‘Lucie Carolan, you’d better not be blaming yourself.’
‘A smidge,’ Lucie shrugged.
‘That’s ridiculous and you know it. This whole drinking thing has clearly been brewing for a while, we’veall been questioning just how wild he’s been partying. Especially at the launch, it was so unlike him and you didn’t do anything then. Here, have some yoghurt.’ Faith thrust a bowl at her. ‘Enough with those thoughts.’
The three of them sat there for another forty-five minutes, stuffing their faces with food and scrolling through Bea’s social media, engaging in mindless gossip about the latest influencer dramas. The distraction was welcome, but not entirely effective. Lucie spent most of that time silent, pretending to listen. She had to keep talking herself out of going back into Brett’s room.
‘I’ve got a text.’ Faith reach for her phone. She looked up with a smile on her face. ‘He’s perked up a bit, they’ve got him drinking some water and he seems to be sobering up quite fast. Apparently, he’s cracking jokes now and insists he’s fine and had tipped most of the JD down the sink, which makes no sense. Julien thinks he’s putting on a front, and just doesn’t want to talk emotions. He also said for you to let Brett sulk for an hour or so before you go in. He feels really bad and keeps asking for you.’ Faith continued reading out the key parts of the message, but Lucie was focused on one thing and one thing only.
For the first time in their entire friendship, she was scared of what would come next.
7
‘There she is, my sunshine girl.’ Brett sat propped up in bed four hours later, surrounded by room-service food with a superhero film playing on the flat-screen TV at the foot of the bed. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days, his hair sticking out at odd angles. In all honesty, he looked adorable. She had always loved how he looked in the mornings: innocent, naïve.
He didn’t look like he was recovering from a wild drinking binge, he just looked like Brett. Lucie’s façade almost crumbled, but she couldn’t let his treatment of her this morning slide. She wanted to come in here with a tough-love approach, because it was exactly what she would want Brett to do if she was in his position.
It was also the nature of the sport Brett loved. Jasper and the team at Revolution Racing approached things the same way. They yelled at each other over the radio, they had blazing rows in conference rooms, but it was because they cared. They had passion. They were a team. Just like she and Brett were and had been for a decade. This was a blip.
‘Uh huh. Good to see you’re feeling chipper.’ Lucie raised an eyebrow as mayonnaise fell out of his chicken burger and landed on his bare chest. ‘You need a bib. You’re like a big baby.’ She willed herself not to laugh as he wiped it off.
‘Do you hate me?’ He looked up at her with big, round eyes. He looked just like that GIF of the cat fromShrekand it almost succeeded in making Lucie melt.
‘I’m certainly not impressed.’ She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.
‘I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and my head was pounding.’
‘That’s no excuse for that kind of behaviour, Brett.’
‘I know.’ He looked nauseous, and she didn’t think it was just the result of alcohol.
‘You scared me. I’ve never seen you in that state before. And for you to speak to me the way you did?’
‘I’m so sorry, Luce. Seriously. I shouldn’t have let myself get that drunk.’
‘You hurt me.’ She felt her eyes sting again.
‘Oh, Sunny. Come here.’ Brett put his food aside and held his arms out.
When she settled into him, like he was made for her, and laid her head on his mayo-free chest, she felt him breathe a sigh of relief. It was the same relief she felt the second he embraced her, and it was then that she knew if she had to lie here for the next twenty-four hours, flight to London be damned, watching crappy action movies and gorging out on greasy food until he felt human again, she would.
‘You deserve better, Sunny,’ he muttered into her hair, running his fingers through it in an effort to soothe her.
‘You owe me big time, Anderson. I want a lifetime of unlimited blueberry pancakes. Might as well just hand your credit card over now.’
‘How about we go out tonight? There’s a really cool bar on the Strip that we didn’t get to last night. I know the owner; I can get us a booth. Just me and you, fuck everyone else. I’ve got the room until tomorrow anyway.’ She felt the low rumble of his voice as he spoke, felt his chest rise and fall. But surely she had heard wrong? Surely those words had not just come out of his mouth.
‘Brett, are you serious?’ She sat up and stared at him in bewilderment.
‘What?’ He looked at her blankly.
‘What do you mean,what?’
